


Finding Comfort in Each Other

by writingrach76



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, minor original character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingrach76/pseuds/writingrach76
Summary: John has a rough day at work and Sherlock comforts him.





	Finding Comfort in Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> Just a cute fluffy thing I thought of the other day that I wanted to write. It kinda feels to me like there's something missing but I don't know. I normally have that feeling about my writing so it's probably fine. Let me know what you think!

The first thing Sherlock was aware of was how warm he was. The second was the dead weight on top of him and for a single instant he wondered if he had been kidnapped, or something of the like. However, a quick inhale revealed he was still very much in Baker Street, surrounded by it’s familiar mix of tea, formaldehyde, Mrs. Hudson’s lavender cleaning products, and something very remotely John that Sherlock couldn’t quite place. His eyes flickered open to find John Watson asleep against his chest, face buried underneath Sherlock’s hands steepled under his chin. That explained the overwhelming scent of him. The light over the stove was the only source of light in the flat besides the fading light of the setting sun through the open window. He watched silently as John slept against him, his body rising and falling slightly with each breath that Sherlock took.

A quick glance around the flat told him everything that he needed to know about John’s day. He’d come home and turned on the kitchen light. He hadn’t gone into their bedroom because the door was still open a quarter of an inch just as Sherlock had left it when he exited it this morning. John also had not gone to the bathroom, it’s door still open just halfway as Sherlock had also left it this morning. John was still in his work clothes. His work bag was on the floor beside the front door but he was still wearing his jacket. John had simply come home from work, turned a light on in the darkening flat and immediately laid down on Sherlock. He most likely hadn’t mean to fall asleep waiting for him to exit his mind palace, Sherlock reasoned, but John often slept an average two hours more after a hard day at work. And hard days at work had been all the more frequent once he quit the horrible job at that boring surgery and took a more exciting job in the trauma center at St. Bart's. Not that Sherlock minded, he enjoyed being close to John.

John made a quiet snuffling sound against Sherlock’s chest and he watched as John, still completely asleep, burrowed himself more firmly against Sherlock’s body. He lifted his hand and carefully began to thread his fingers through John’s short blonde hair.

“Sherlock,” John’s voice was deep and husky, still thick with sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Sherlock forced his hands to keep running through John’s hair. It still shocked him that he was _allowed_ to do this. He was allowed to touch John, and yet he often found himself yanking his hands away as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. 

“S’fine. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Sherlock felt the vibrations from John’s voice in his chest.

“Have you eaten? Or should we get Chinese?” Sherlock let one hand continue carding through John’s hair while the other laid gently against John’s back. John propped his chin against Sherlock’s chest to look at him.

“That sounds wonderful. But...not yet. I’d like to stay here for awhile, if you don’t mind,” John gave him a small, half-hearted smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Of course I don’t mind. Would you like to talk about your day at work?” John’s eyes slid closed for a moment and he shook his head.

“Not now. You know the jist of it, I’m sure, and that’s enough,” He murmured before snuggling back into Sherlock, his face pressed firmly against his chest again. They laid quietly on the couch together as the flat was slowly overtaken by darkness. Sherlock knew he was not a patient person, but this was a scenario that he loved. He was never impatient for John to leave his arms. He’d much prefer if he never left them.

“I love you,” Sherlock told him quietly, in the safety of their darkened flat leaned forward to kiss the top of John’s head. John propped himself on one elbow to look at Sherlock through the darkness and grinned at him, something closer to his normal smile, though still not quite there. It must have been a particularly bad death, Sherlock noted to himself.

“I love you too,” He leaned forward to gently kiss Sherlock. Sherlock could even tell through the way John kissed him that he'd had a bad day. He only wished there was more he could think of to make it better.

“Do you mind if we just go to bed?” John asked, hand intertwining with one of Sherlock’s. That was all the confirmation Sherlock needed. It was more than one death then. Perhaps one was a child. If John wasn’t worried about eating, or about Sherlock eating, then it had been a very bad day.

“We can go to bed,” Sherlock reassured him, and let John peel himself from Sherlock’s body and pull him to his feet before John’s arms were around him again.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re only this clingy when there’s a particularly hard death. Do you think that you need to visit Ella again?” Sherlock carefully guided John into their bedroom. He knew John hated the therapist but he wasn't good at feelings. He didn't know how to help this.

“I’ll be fine. You know the hospital makes us talk to a therapist every so often. I just want you close for awhile. I’ll be alright.” John let Sherlock undress him as he spoke. There was nothing sexual about it as he guided John into pajama bottoms and into bed before Sherlock changed into a pair of his own pajama bottoms and got into the other side of the bed. John wrapped his body around Sherlock’s, chin against his chest and Sherlock’s arms came around to hold John as close to him as he could. After a few moments of silence, John began to talk quietly.

“It was a car accident. Four people. Three adults and one child, a little girl. We did all we could, but both of the parents are dead. The girl is in critical condition in ICU as is the other adult we haven’t been able to identify yet. The girl’s grandparents have been notified and if she pulls through she’ll have to go and live with them, but they’re in their late seventies. They aren’t able to be caretakers for very long. If the girl wakes up her life as she knew it is going to be over. Of course, apparently there were joints found in the wrecked car and a test of the dead parents showed it was in their system so who knows, maybe living with the grandparents will be an improvement. But she’s going to have to wake up and learn that both her parents are dead-,” John broke off shaking his head. “I can’t even imagine what she’s going to have to go through and I keep thinking about what could have been done differently but really I know they would have died no matter what, so I don’t know why I’m still focused on it.” Sherlock stroked John’s back gently.

“You have the ability to care deeply about a complete stranger. Of course you’re going to be worried about her. But you’ve done what you could. She’s still alive and that counts for something. She still has her whole future ahead of her to make something out of it.” Sherlock’s deep voice was quiet in the dark room and John caught his hand to squeeze it.

“Thank you. I’m sorry about this,” John wasn't good at taking comfort. He was always the comforter, and it was amazing it had taken this long for him to attempt to apologize for needing comfort. 

“You don’t need to be sorry for feeling too deeply. I’m your partner, I’m supposed to care for your emotional health as much as your physical health and I quite enjoy doing both. You don’t need to apologize for this,” Sherlock leaned forward for a long, gentle kiss.

“You should sleep. You always feel better in the morning. I’ll be here to keep the nightmares away,” He promised. John’s breath was already evening out, Sherlock felt the rise and fall of John’s chest against his own and John’s breath against his neck as he drifted off in the safety of his partner's arms.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I will never stop being grateful that you’re mine,” John mumbled against Sherlock’s neck, more asleep than awake.

“You’ve always deserved this, John Watson. If anything, I don’t deserve your selflessness,” Sherlock whispered, but John had fallen into a deep sleep, and didn’t respond.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on  tumblr  if anyone wants to drop by and talk about Sherlock or anything.


End file.
